Snared (Kaliya Sahni Book 2)

by K. N. Banet

  “Kaliya? Can you pay?”

  I nodded rapidly. If they wanted to do the scars now, I was more than willing to pay the bill and get it over with. I didn’t really want to be scarred to hell by the time I was two hundred. I paid a pretty fucking penny to get done, but I would not live with a thousand scars.

  The fiery pain turned into an ice-cold pain, meaning they had finished closing the wounds and were now making sure nothing scarred. My screams only grew, bouncing off the walls even with the leather strap helping to muffle it. My back arched.

  Then it was done, leaving me sweaty, panting, and sagging on the table where they had laid me out.

  I looked at the ceiling, my eyesight blurry, but I knew it would clear up. The witches did nothing halfway. They would have healed everything they could. They would have made sure nothing was wrong with my head after repeated blows and made sure the bruising subsided. They were more efficient than fae healers, but it came at the cost of the pain.

  “You can sit up now,” a matronly woman ordered. I tried, and the brunette at my head helped me, easing me up and helping me swing my legs off the side of the table. I was naked, but I didn’t let that faze me, and I knew it didn’t faze any of the witches in the room.

  Before me stood a blonde woman who looked like she walked out of a porn shoot set in the suburbs. She knew the impression she gave, looking the way she did, but I knew she didn’t care. She didn’t like what she called “witch aesthetic” because it made her obvious to human governments, something she had to worry about, and I did not. It was also just too cliché.

  She was smoking hot. With ice blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she was the perfect white woman who needed a husband, two point five kids, and a yellow lab. She had magically enhanced breasts; she was the type who loved the silicone look but didn’t want the surgery. The secret to her look, though, was the corset she always wore under her tops to give an hourglass shape that made heads turn and jaws drop. Men everywhere fell for Monica, but she was unobtainable at best and deadly to toy with at worst.

  Monica was married to the equally hot brunette, Piper, who was holding me up. Men’s hearts broke every time they learned dick didn’t do it for either of them.

  “Thanks,” I said hoarsely, then coughed. A drink was shoved in front of me, and I took it quickly, powering it down before anyone could tell me how it was supposed to be taken.

  The potion hit me like a lightning strike, sending a shock through my system, making my eyes widen as my heart rate began to accelerate. It faded quickly, but it was a rush I had never experienced before.

  “We figured you would need to get back on your feet quickly,” Monica said, smirking. “How was it? We haven’t tested it.”

  “You gave me an untested potion?” I said, holding the glass away from me. “Gods, you could have killed me!”

  “It was just a potion we made more potent with a different ingredient. I’m sure you don’t want the list. You know how these things work.” Piper took the glass from me. “You’re not dead yet, so it won’t kill you. You might notice you feel wide awake, and your throat doesn’t hurt.”

  “Both true,” I admitted. “But I’m not a lab rat. Let’s not do that again, please.”

  “Of course. I’ll knock a million off your bill since it wasn’t the most professional thing to do.” Monica’s smirk turned into a smile. “It’s good they got you here in time. I would have been sad to see you die, Kaliya Sahni.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I said, smiling back at her. I slid off the table and looked down at myself, seeing how only faint red lines were left. Not scars but places where the skin was still fresh. “Who got me here?”

  “Raphael, that…Well, I’ve never seen anything like him, I’ll say,” Monica said, sighing. “Leith is also here. A werewolf dropped off…” She trailed off, giving me something between a motherly look of concern and a glare. “Another naga.”

  “Nakul,” I confirmed. “Yeah, my uncle. He’s been following me around since the breakout.”

  “He nearly killed you,” she snapped. “And he’s the one you want us to help. He’s been in and out of consciousness since his arrival. Something is obviously very wrong with him.”

  I slid off the table and was glad to have my feet hold me.

  “I can’t really tell you much because it’s being investigated. You know that. When this is all wrapped up—”

  “You might want to tell me more than you think,” she said softly, her bold blue eyes bearing down on me. She pointed to a pile of clothing on a side table in their little medical room. “Cassius’ butler brought clothing for you. Put them on, then come with me. Love, tell Kaliya’s friends she’s up and will be out in a moment. I’m taking her to our holding cell.”

  That made me wary, but I followed the bombshell witch out of the healing room and down a small hall. Not many in Phoenix had basements, most homes built on slab foundations, but the coven had this house built specifically for their needs. It was worth a couple of million, and at any time, nearly half the coven lived and worked in the building. They also trained young witches to either join the coven or do magic-related work one day. Depending on the latent talent, they subtly maneuvered the kid where they wanted, whether it be in a certain industry or just making potions with and for the coven. It didn’t always work—everyone knew teenagers were going to do whatever they wanted to do—but there was something honorable about what the Phoenix coven was doing. They didn’t abuse the kids, who were given lots of options, and most of them were off the streets or from impoverished areas. Rich witches went to schools across the world, focusing on different specialties. The Phoenix coven found everyone else, at least in Arizona and New Mexico, where there wasn’t a coven in the entire state.

  We went to a dark back hallway, and she opened the last door, revealing a room with bars running through the center. Inside the cell was a man I was wondering if I would find during this party.

  “Kartane,” I greeted, a hiss punctuating the end.

  He looked up, and I took stock—he seemed healthy, still had eyes, and he was very scared.

  “Monica, you promised,” Kartane said quickly, standing up. “You promised not to give me away until you knew the truth, and I promise you, I am telling the truth.”

  “We’re going to find out soon enough,” she replied, then turned to me. “He showed up before dawn. We’ve kept him down here because we’re under orders to kill him on sight, but I submit to the Tribunal, I do not kill for them. I intended to call you if I couldn’t find the truth myself or bring myself to do it. I don’t like people, you see.”

  “I know,” I said, keeping my eyes on the traitor.

  “Well, he had such a story to tell, I’ve decided you need to hear it.”

  I thought about it. Kartane could tell me anything, whether it was true or not. I had a more reliable source to get to first.

  “Nakul’s memories first,” I decided. “Then I’ll interview Kartane. If what he says holds any truth, I’ll hold off and keep him alive for trial.” I didn’t know if he could be exonerated.

  “Where’re Eliphas’ eyes?” I asked him, crossing my arms. That was the only thing I wanted to know.

  “I don’t have them.”

  My eyebrows went up as I turned fully on Monica. She shrugged.

  “Don’t give me that look. I didn’t take them. I don’t need Eliphas’ power. He’s a solitary creature, I like the community. I draw strength from them when they offer it. I don’t steal. He didn’t have them when we had him searched upon showing up on our doorstep. If he doesn’t have them, and Eliphas doesn’t have them, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Thanks. Kartane, I’ll be back to deal with you. Monica, take me to my group, and let’s get Nakul ready for his appointment.”

  “Of course.”

  We walked out, leaving Kartane, who seemed to accept his fate, not moving to call us back. He knew who I was and knew not to push me. I would get to him when I got to him and not
a moment sooner.

  “You know…” Monica sighed. “You can’t go running out into battle right now. That potion gave you energy to get on your feet and help the fog lift from your mind, but you aren’t in a good place to go out and fight.”

  “Yeah, it takes two weeks for a healing you did to fully set. I know.” Before that, there was a chance a new injury could break the magic done, and wounds could reopen.

  “For the way you were? I’d give it more of a four to six range. You had layers of injuries from repeated fights. I know the last day has been mostly on your shoulders—thank you for killing Levi—but you need to learn your body has limits the werewolves and vampires do not. You are just as fragile as me, and you don’t see me out there with a gun, trying to kill everyone.”

  “You don’t like to kill people,” I reminded her.

  “And you do?” The look on her face was disbelieving.

  “I’m good at it, and it’s my job. Being proficient at a task and enjoying it are two different things. No one enjoys being kicked around while trying to do their job.”

  I didn’t want to talk about this. The idea of enjoying my job was too close to being like Nakul or someone like Erline, who loved what she did. I wasn’t a serial killer. I was a professional, who took out the serial killers, despots, and abusers—those who would see the supernaturals return to darker times, doing as they pleased. I enjoyed cleaning up the world I lived in to be safer for everyone, from this coven to the werewolf pack of Phoenix to the nagas in India.

  I didn’t enjoy killing. It was a means to an end.

  We walked beside each other to the ground level of the coven’s home, then she led me to a sitting room near the main entrance, opening the door with a wave of her hand and a mumbled word.

  I saw Raphael first, his head coming up. He jumped to his feet and took two massive steps to meet me near the door as I tried to enter.

  “They said you were okay, but…” His eyes searched my face, looking for confirmation.

  “Good as new!”

  “Not quite,” Monica snapped. “I mean it, Kaliya. You need to be careful.”

  “I can’t promise that, Monica, and you know it,” I replied in a singsong voice. “I never knew you cared so much about my health.” I was naturally distrustful of most witches and generally kept my distance from the coven unless we were brought together for my job or their services. They weren’t people I spent time with otherwise.

  “I don’t think we can save you the next time,” she said harshly. “You need to understand that we’re draining coven power right now to help contain this situation. The same way vampires are risking their own to keep the streets clear of supernaturals, and the werewolves helped recapture that nuisance of theirs. The fae are hunkered down, and their leaders are gone, so there’s no magical backup. We put you back together, but you are not fixed.”

  “Monica—” I really didn’t need this woman pissed off at me.

  “And I’m going to charge you a pretty penny for this next task with Nakul. The heal was free, but this will not be. I can’t just offer you and the Tribunal unlimited access. I have to draw a line in the sand somewhere.” She turned on her heel and started walking back out of the room, sparing me a glance. “We’ll be in the greenhouse to complete the potions, then we’ll meet you in the west wing auditorium, where we’ve put Nakul. He’s under heavy magical sedation, so he’s already prepared. You have thirty minutes.”

  “The cost?” I asked, knowing I needed to have the money on hand, or she would ask for a different type of payment upon the spell’s completion.

  “Three million, due upon the end of the spell. And…” She narrowed her eyes on me. “A drop of his venom.”

  “No, and if I hear you’ve kept any, the threat stands.” I shot her down without a single moment of consideration. Under no circumstances would that ever be an acceptable price. “I’ll pay you four million, but you aren’t keeping anything that belongs to a naga. Not you, not one of your coven, not a witch you happen to see passing through. No one in this building or outside of it.”

  I had to be protective. A hair, a nail clipping, a teardrop, a scale, a drop of venom—all could be used for spells. Some just added power to a spell. Some were used to direct a spell at the unfortunate donator. Some were the base ingredient for dangerous poisons that had no cure, though my venom didn’t need magic to help with that. She could do things with it I wasn’t comfortable with, though—like creating a single dose of anti-venom for one person to try to kill me with. I wouldn’t allow any naga’s safety to be violated by being the subject matter of a witch, Nakul included.

  The answer would always be no.

  “Four million, it is. You know where to send it.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I just figured since he tried to kill you—”

  “He’s a naga, and I’m one of their rulers. I don’t care what he’s done. I won’t willingly part with a piece of him to you or anyone else.”

  “You really need to speak to Kartane,” she said ominously, then walked away, the door closing me in with Leith and Raphael.

  “You know, the more I meet your…friends in the supernatural world, the more I think you need to find better friends,” Raphael said softly, leaning over my shoulder to say it in my ear. “Leith, Cassius, and Sorcha are nice. Paden is fine, but…” He looked pointedly at the door.

  “Monica isn’t my friend,” I clarified softly. “She’s another power in the region, and we need to be friendly, but that doesn’t mean we’re more than occasional allies. Sometimes, I’m her client. Normally, I let the fae heal me for a price and come to her to get the scars cleaned up. That’s all.”

  “Ah.”

  Slowly, I felt a hand touch my lower back and wrap around. I looked up at my roommate, wondering what he was doing.

  “I was worried about you,” he whispered, his warm chocolate eyes hooded as he stared at me.

  My heart gave a hard thump. My fangs dropped and waited for me to use them.

  I stepped back, letting out a slow breath.

  “Thanks.” I turned away from him to find Leith casually flipping through a magazine.

  “These witches have the most unusual interests,” he said blandly as he closed the magazine and put it down. When he looked up, he smiled. “It’s good to see you awake and moving, Lady Kaliya. Now, I need to return home. If either of you needs anything, please don’t hesitate to call or come by again.”

  “Thank you, Leith. Tell Cassius I’m sorry about the blood.”

  “It’s already handled,” he promised, touching my arm before strolling out of the room.

  “I was convinced he was going to run,” Raphael mumbled, watching the door close once again.

  “Most fae who work for nobles are used to dealing with other supernatural species, but there’s a particular divide between fae and witches. Fae don’t like witches, humans who dabble in powers beyond their comprehension. Witches think fae are fucking full of themselves. It’s a thing. Leith doesn’t like conflict, and it’s not his place, so his best bet is to leave as soon as possible. He knew I was alive and saw me to confirm, so now he’ll be able to tell Cassius.” I looked around the room and wondered if now was a good time to deal with Nakul, or if there was something else that needed to be said.

  Raphael reached out and grabbed my wrist. He didn’t pull on me. He stepped up and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders.

  “I thought you were going to die,” he said into my hair.

  “I didn’t know we had this type of relationship,” I said, swallowing a lump of anxiety that had risen up in place of everything else I had been feeling. Whatever those feelings had been, I couldn’t remember.

  “I didn’t either, but then I picked you up off the floor, and you were bleeding everywhere, and it was so fast. I’ve been into you since we met, Kaliya. Seeing you nearly die a few times put some things into perspective for me. We still barely know each other, but there’s something…between us. I know there is. I
can feel it. You nearly died, and we never addressed it. I thought we would have time. I’ve been biding my time for months, trying to get to know you better, but then you nearly fucking died.”

  I stared at his chest, letting him talk, wondering how I found myself in this position.

  “I don’t love you or anything. I’m not crazy enough to think I do after we’ve known each for only a handful of months, but…” His words faded away for a moment. “You aren’t going to admit to it, are you?”

  “I’m into you,” I conceded with a nod, not looking at him. “I always fall for you good guys. You are just the most recent one.” I tried to step back from him again, hoping my excuses worked. He didn’t need to know he was the only person I could biologically mate with. That had no business being said here or anywhere…ever. “It won’t be healthy for either of us and—”

  “Kaliya, I can be bad too,” he said, holding me where I was, his words hot in my ear, making other areas a blazing inferno. “I just want to explore this, you know? Life’s a fucking mess, and who knows when Mygi might try to take me back to the lab. If you’ll have me, just give me one date or something when this is over. Yeah?”

  One date. That was all this fucking good person was going to ask for, one date. Of course.

  “One date,” I promised. “But I meant what I said in the elevator. I would totally fuck you, no strings attached.” I needed to take control of the conversation again, throw him off his game because his game was very much biased in his favor. “I don’t need roses or dinner. Just you without your clothes and a bottle of scotch.”

  When a delightful red tint hit his cheeks, I felt like I had the power again. His ability to distract me and make me weak at the knees was unfair, and I couldn’t let him realize just how effective it was.

  I was able to break the hold and walked toward the door, intending to get back to work. As I pulled it open, his hand came up and stopped it. His other hand grabbed my waist as he came up behind me and held me there. The heat that radiated from him wanted to send me up in flames.